


Juxtaposition

by compos_dementis



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Schizophrenia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 15:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/compos_dementis/pseuds/compos_dementis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a woman that Spencer sees sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Juxtaposition

The only light in the room blinds him with three numbers. Four thirty-seven. With a doctor's appointment in the morning, he attempts to force slumber upon his mind. There is only one problem. 

This problem manifests itself as an image.

There is a woman that Spencer sees sometimes. She is middle-aged and plump and motherly, and she usually appears when he is suffering the crippling dark depths of insomnia. She chases away the nightmares because, as she has said before, she's a nightmare herself. Her name is Maggie, and the first time he saw her, he had recognized her voice as the one that had been in his mind for the past two months.

Her body is both a beacon of light and a black hole, a hollowed out and useless womb, and her palms would feel like sandpaper if he was permitted to touch them. They would feel like his mother's hands. Thin and bleeding an invisible, silent stigmata.

Maggie rides her bike to the library despite being old and hunched, and she is gone every Saturday, pumping her legs against the wind, and Spencer thinks of her ancient blue bicycle and her fading yellow sweater, the wool sweating and gasping as she rides down the streets. Spencer noticed last time that her hair needed cutting, and the next time he saw her, it was cut, just like that. Maggie's face looks like his mother's, if his mother were round.

That red light that continuously blinds him becomes his inspiration. He starts to notice how different pieces are, Maggie's hair, the frames of her reading glasses, even the stance in which she presents herself.

Juxtaposition at its most subtle; the pieces have their own opposing stories. The original speaks for itself, embodying a time of long standing tradition and customs, a time where men were real men and the rich ran the state, and variance was as prosperous as the poor. Spencer notices the continuity errors, how it seems this woman never broke stride, never stopping to second-guess her view or to inquire on the views of others. From here his mind continues on this yellow brick road, leading him to the conclusion that--

Three numbers.

Four thirty-seven.

Panic sets in, and brick by brick his yellow brick road diminishes. 

He lies frozen with disappointment. A mere hour and a half ago he was committed to sleep. 

Juxtaposition. Spencer’s unsure of how to refer to Maggie. Maybe he'll call it a replica, maybe an interpretation, but he settles on a perception of the original. This perception requires deeper investigation into its meaning. He extracts the idea of a modern time where the people speak for the people, a time when vast diversity is desired, and collaborative efforts are evident. Many aspects of the perception manipulate his eyes. The different facial features, pieces of clothing, and abstract background aspects supply him energetic impression. An impression, nonetheless. The perception speaks for many; it supports diversity and encourages unity.

Spencer's fingers halt from where he is worrying a seam loose in his blanket and his neck cocks. The red light, the three numbers, seven fifty-three. 

Seven steps to the door, and seven minutes to work.

Maggie smiles across from him, seated in his arm chair.


End file.
